Final Draft
by Robin Hoodlum
Summary: Angelus takes issue with a particularly bad fanfiction writer.


_Disclaimer: I do not own the character of Angelus. Joss Whedon does; I'm just borrowing him._

Final Revision

She pounded on the keyboard, putting the finishing touches on the masterpiece she was sure would garner nothing but rave reviews from her fellow _Angel_ worshippers. She smiled, particularly pleased with the last line of her work, tucking a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear. She hit the 'send' button, effectively shooting it off into cyberspace for _Angel_ fans everywhere to read and enjoy.

She considered for a few moments that maybe she should have let someone else read her homage to her favorite television show before she sent it off for eyes everywhere, slightly doubting her decision to publish before getting a critique from someone. Nah, she'd done right by the 251-year-old vampire with a soul, and she'd get satisfaction having written a story for the cancelled program that reflected what she'd always wanted to have happen on the show.

She swiveled her computer chair away from the screen, lifting off the seat, stretching her stiff back. She padded her stocking feet over to the mini refrigerator she shared with her college roommate, hoping Paige hadn't gulped down her last orange soda.

The fridge no longer carried her beverage. "Dammit, I need to start labeling my groceries," she said.

"I've heard Dymo labels work wonders," the masculine voice behind her answered with an arrogant lilt.

She spun around quickly, effectively startled out of her lament about her food stealing foe. She sucked in a stunned breath at the sight of the 6'2" body that belonged to the voice. One leather clad leg was crossed over the other, his palm leaning against the wall. He held his weight upright just outside the threshold of her doorway.

This could not be who she thought it was. It's not like David Boreanaz made house calls to thank his fans for writing fan fiction about characters he no longer played. Attempting to formulate words in her confused state was impossible. Her mind whirred with possibilities. Was she asleep, dreaming about the hunky television star? She pinched her arm hard enough to elicit an 'ow'—guess not—she concluded. She tilted her head much like a confused dog would do, surveying the specimen in front of her head to toe.

"Aw-shucks darlin', you're making me blush," he said. "I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."

The quip didn't even register. She did a mental checklist, trying to find some discrepancy in the man's features, something that would prove that he wasn't her beloved actor. He stood there with a cocky smirk on his thin lips (lips identical to David's, she noted), same brown spiky hair, same muscular build, same cleft in his chin, same prominent brow, not to mention he was dressed remarkably similar to the vampire he portrayed five years ago. The black on black ensemble was a dead giveaway, as was the leather duster extending just short of his knees. Despite her confusion, she was convinced that this was indeed David Boreanaz.

"Oh, my god," she said, breaking the silence, taking a step toward her visitor.

"I can assure you, God has nothing to do with it," he answered, smile faltering only for a moment.

"You're David Boreanaz," she offered, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. Obviously he knew who he was.

Before she had time to wonder at the puzzled look she saw shine in his dark eyes for a split second, he recovered with "Mind if I come in?"

Her eyes widened cartoonishly, realizing how rude she was being by not inviting him in. "Of course. I'm so sorry, please come in," she answered, a giddy pitch to her voice.

His smirk turned into a full blown smile at her invitation, swaggering just inside the entrance. "Dorm rooms just aren't as spacious as they lead us to believe on the old boob tube now, are they?" he queried, scanning the cramped area. "You actually share this crap heap with a roomie?" he verified, noting the twin beds across the room from each other, each pushed up against a cinderblock wall.

"Yeah, fortunately for me she usually stays the night at her boyfriend's place," she answered, somewhat startled by the actor's abrupt language, but not about to let it dampen her enthusiasm at meeting him. Actors are supposed to be eccentric, right?

"I see," he said, casually walking over to the computer desk in the far right corner of the room.

"Whatcha working on here?" he inquired, moving the mouse around the pad to rid the monitor of it's screensaver, quickly scanning the words below the username AngelBuff4eva.

"Oh that's right, I remember, true love conquers all. Angel gets to be with Buffy the Vampire Layer, they get married IN A CHURCH, no less, regardless of the fact that Soulboy has no last name," he pointed out, annoyance evident in his forceful tone.

"That doesn't matter though, right? Who needs common sense when love is involved? Forget about the pesky gypsy curse preventing him from ever sleeping with Buff because if he experiences one moment of perfect happiness he'll lose his fluffy soul and become evil again. How would he skulk around LA 'helping the helpless' all detective-like?" he challenged, clearly taking his host off-guard, if her gaping mouth was any indication.

"You read my story?"

"And now I'm forced to live up to the cliché and rip your throat out," he said in a deceptively calm voice, advancing on her like a panther would its prey.

"Don't get me wrong, that Buff is a nice piece of slayer ass, but I just don't see a future there. Call me old fashioned but I'm guessing my plans to drain her slowly and get high off the sweet nectar that fills her with life will put a damper on the honeymoon," he deadpanned, a smirk returning to his chiseled jaw. "And would it kill you to use a comma every once in a while?"

Before AngelBuff4eva's mind had a chance to catch up with all her guest had said, a change came over him. He went into full "game face" as _Angel _and _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ fans have come to know it. His forehead went bumpy, thick fangs protruded from his canine teeth (the rest of his teeth became sharper), and his eyes flashed gold. His words finally caught up to her. He was going to rip her throat out. All she could manage to force past her lips was, "Angel?" and that came out as a squeak.

"Name's Angelus, baby! I'm soul-free. Angel has left the building," he taunted. Her flight response finally kicked in, but before her legs had time to propel her further than a few feet out the door, Angelus was in front of her blocking her retreat down the hallway. "Vampiric speed, dumb ass," he sneered, grabbing a hold of the back of her neck and tossing her back into the dorm room, his arm swinging above his head theatrically with the effort. AngelBuff4eva crashed hard into her roommate's dresser, smacking the side of her head on its edge, crumbling to the ground in front of Paige's bed.

"Half of that crap you were passing as writing didn't resemble the English language at all," he said, starting his rant anew, slamming the door to her room shut. "Oh Buffy," he mocked, changing his voice to mimic his souled self, "I know I can't brang you into the sunlight or gave you vampire babies, but we cin adopt."

AngelBuff4eva steadied her trembling arm on the bedpost using it to hoist her aching body to a standing position, blood trickling from her head wound into her left eye. Fat tears soon trickled down her cheeks, eliciting another sinister howl of laughter from her tormenter. "Sweetie, I'm evil, so the whole weepy girly thing is only going to turn me on more," he promised, taking a dramatic sniff of the air. "Your blood smells so sweet, like fear."

Almost quicker than the human eye could detect, he appeared right in front of her, grabbing her around the throat, cutting off her air supply. As she sputtered—trying to prolong her life—Angelus ran his tongue along her now blood soaked cheek, lapping up her life juice like a kitten would a saucer of milk. "So sweet," he remarked in appreciation before snapping her neck and dropping her deadweight to the ground. "Please, don't get up, I'll let myself out," he said, laughing at his own joke, stepping over her body toward the door.

He only made it three steps before a deliciously evil thought formed in his head, and he swung around to execute his plan. He slung AngelBuff4eva over his shoulder with little effort and plopped her carelessly into her computer chair, shifting her body weight to keep her in the seat. He dropped her head harshly onto the desk, earning him a loud thump in response. "Oops," he snickered, proceeding to arrange her body so she looked like she had fallen asleep working on homework. Her right cheek rested in the crook of her right elbow, which was bent to support her head, and her left hand lay parallel to her right. He shut her lifeless brown eyes last, completing his masterpiece.

Dipping his right index finger into the bloody wound on her head, he wrote out the words _BE WISE REVISE _on the monitor. Satisfied with his work, he licked his finger and strolled out the door. "Time for takeout," Angelus mumbled. He whistled "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" on his way out.

_Reviews are appreciated, very much._


End file.
